


Reflections Of A Time Gone

by godcanthelpyounow



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Gen, Kind of Happy ending?, jujube is gay so he really isn't interested in peach that way, non sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godcanthelpyounow/pseuds/godcanthelpyounow
Summary: When Jujube looks at Peach, he remembers the man he once loved.





	Reflections Of A Time Gone

I.  
When Jujube meets Peach for the first time, he is struck how much she reminds him of his old comrade Rebel. Much like Rebel, she was mischievous, and frequently enjoyed trying to catch him by surprise. She wasn’t as skilled at it as Rebel was.

Jujube is sure the two would’ve gotten along. They shared a similar sense of humor. He managed to make her laugh at the jokes Rebel had told him. She seemed to especially enjoy the one about the chicken. It was Rebel’s favorite.

The more time he spent with Peach, the more his mind dredged up memories long forgotten: the way Rebel took his tea, his favorite foods, the way he laughed just a little too loud. How warm his hugs were.

It was painful. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stop.

II.  
Peach came to him looking for training. Much like Rebel, she had a seemingly shallow goal in mind. She simply wanted the glory that came with the training. Very few could boast that they had mastered martial arts, and even fewer could say they had been trained by a famed war general. When he had met Rebel, he had scoffed at his bravado and developed an immediate dislike.

Rebel had joined the cause for the money. At the time, Jujube couldn’t understand why anyone would ever subject themselves to war for a few gold coins. Because Rebel had joined for such a superficial reason, he concluded that Rebel was a simple pawn. He would die on the front lines in a matter of months.

 

To his surprise, Rebel managed to not only survive every mission he was sent on, but he quickly climbed the ranks and made himself an invaluable member of their cause. And as Rebel ingrained himself deeper within their group, Jujube found himself growing closer to him.

They spent many nights together, talking on topics that they normally wouldn’t disclose to anyone. He learned of Rebel’s true motivations. Rebel’s mother was near her deathbed. If he didn’t get money, and soon, she would die before she saw his sister marry.

Jujube wondered if Peach had similar motivations for her training.

 

III.  
He saw the scar entirely by accident. It was large, a misshapen oval about the size of his palm under her right breast, and there were smaller dots scattered lightly down her right side. Peach had injured herself while sparring with one of Jujube’s other pupils and was in the middle of dressing the wound. He asked her about it, startling her slightly.

They’re birthmarks, she said. She had had it for as long as she could remember. It never hurt , but it was a little alarming to others.

Jujube left her to tend her injuries, his eyes watering. She could never have known about how the scar would affect him, of course. She was an unfortunate bystander to his train wreck of memories, the innocent catalyst.

On their last mission, Rebel had sustained similar wounds. They had proven to be fatal. Somehow, by some cruel twist of fate, the girl that was already so similar to his lost love also had a birthmark of similar shape and placement as the wounds that had killed Rebel. Wounds that Rebel had gotten saving _him_.

Was he being punished?

IV.  
Somehow, he is both surprised and not that Peach chose the same weapon as Rebel. He expected her to pick a weapon that was more... heavy handed, but the heavy wooden staff looked at home in her hand.

The way she fought was very different from Rebel’s techniques. Where Rebel had planted his feet like the roots of a tree, she danced around her opponent like petals in the wind. Where Rebel would have ducked, she weaved. Their fighting styles were so contradictory and yet…

Somehow, she fought with the same energy that Rebel had. It was a curious thing.

V.  
It was meant to be a simple simulation, to prepare them for what the Witch would send at them. The obstacle course wasn’t meant to cause any injuries, let alone something as serious as this.

Cradling Peach in his arms, he cursed himself for once again failing to protect his friend. Her blood soaked through his hakama. He knew it would leave a near invisible stain on his skin, just like Rebel’s had. A hidden scar that would haunt him forever, whether she lived or not.

He carried her to their healer, a gentle woman far younger than him. She looked alarmed at the amount of blood that covered the both of them. He waited as the healer examined her, nerves wracking his body.

He would freely admit to the staggering relief that swept through his body when the healer declared that she would be okay. The would was not as bad as it looked, it would seem.

He still put Peach on bed rest for as long as he could feasibly do so. Just in case

VI.  
Sometimes, when he feels particularly nostalgic, Jujube will take his tea in front of the small altar he made to memorialize Rebel. The altar was rather small, and he prayed in front of it every morning. There was a framed photo of Rebel that his family had given him after the funeral hanging on the wall. The staff is mounted above the photo, an incense burner set in a pedestal off to the side.

The altar can easily be seen by everyone in the dojo. Jujube often leaves the door to the room open, allowing the incense smoke to disperse and to afford the portrait of Rebel an excellent view of the inner gardens.

One day in spring, when Jujube is making one of his increasingly frequent tea visits to the altar room, Peach comes upon him speaking to the portrait. Jujube doesn’t notice she’s there at first. For a few moments, she listens to Jujube talk about how _familiar_ she is. His voice is soft in a way she’s never heard, not in the four years she’s spent at the dojo.

She must make some kind of noise, because he stops speaking. With a small smile, Jujube motions for her to come in. As she sits, she wonders who the man in the photo is. He and Sensei must have been close to evoke such a soft expression from the normally stern man.  
Jujube poured Peach a cup of tea and they sat in silence for a moment, watching the garden. Peach asks him who the man is.

 _An old friend_ , he says. _He would’ve loved you._

As she studies the photo, she thinks that maybe she would’ve liked him, too.


End file.
